Bang Bang

I feel as though I am losing the only person left on this planet that knows me better than I know myself. The person who knows I hate pickles and likes cheap beer. When I'm lying or hiding something. Knows when I am depressed and when I am truly happy.

But, if she talked to me like I wasn't her little sister, she would know I have let go of so many things she claims I hold on to. She says she lets go, but the difference between us is, I accept and let go and she pushes it away and moves forward. She can't talk about her mom or even confront her. And I know that hurts her, it hurts me to know she hides it and pretends its not what it is.

I thought about packing my things up and just driving. I don't know where I would drive to but anywhere would be nice. I could meet new people and get a little apartment and learn to cook italian and work in a little cafe and pretend I am someone else. But, I don't want to hurt the people around me and I don't want to run.

I keep thinking "What the fuck am I going to do with my life?" *sigh*

I have no drive to do anything at the moment, but that's because I have no set goal to reach. I think I'm too honest with myself when I say things like that. Cause really, my life is going to shit. What do I have to show for it? I work and I sleep and I visit my boyfriend and I have friends that I drink and hang out with. I haven't done anything exciting. I'm not changing the world or whatever. I used to be so involved and now it's nothing. I'm just here taking up space and wasting time.

I keep telling Matt that I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with him- but what do I have to contribute? I'm worried. I'm worried I won't be a good wife or get a good job or ever leave tennessee or be a great mom if I decided to have kids. I'm so confused. I want to plan, but I don't. I want to be impulsive, but I shouldn't. Maybe this is apart of growing up, but I wish that I had some type of plan that made me feel good and made me come a live. I wish I could desperately talk to my mother about all of this. She would know what to do. I finally feel like my eyes are open, and I want to talk to her about that, but I can't. It's too late. And my dad wouldn't understand. My family wouldn't. A lot of my friends wouldn't. And I don't want to worry Matt with it, even though he's going to read this and ask me. I'm just saying how I feel baby.

I'm so stressed. I try to carry everything by myself. I try to raise myself. I try to be my own therapist, but it's not working lately. And if I try not to think, it just worsens the problem.


Blah...